


Like Clockwork

by corellianrogue



Series: A Step to the Left of Reality [7]
Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Genre: Birthday, Families of Choice, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corellianrogue/pseuds/corellianrogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, they keep you too busy to even stop to breathe, let alone open presents. And sometimes that's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Clockwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaitan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kaitan).



> For my most wonderful and lovely fiance on her birthday. The Yoochun to my Jaejoong.

  
5:01 AM  
  
Yoochun was catapulted out of a sound sleep and almost right out of his bed by a sudden weight bouncing up next to him. His girlish shriek set the weight laughing which only made it an easier target for his blind, sleep-deprived flail. His alarm clock blinked at him, showing an ungodly time of day that was only supposed to exist when someone saw it from the other side, crawling in after a long night out. Not after being assaulted in the middle of a good dream.  
  
He finally managed to focus enough to see Junsu rubbing his head, pout visible even in the dim light coming in from the hallway. “What the hell are you doing?”  
  
The pout grew even more. Somehow. “I wanted to be the first to tell you happy birthday.”  
  
Right. That explained absolutely nothing. “It couldn’t wait?”  
  
Junsu snorted like that was the stupidest question ever before kissing him on the cheek and hopping out of the bed. “Happy Birthday, Yoochunnie~”  
  
He waved as he disappeared out the door, Yoochun’s thrown pillow hitting nothing but the empty air.

  
8:10 AM  
  
Two hours later, Yoochun’s alarm went off for the start of their day, and he was forced to give up pretending that he’d be able to go back to sleep. An hour after that, he was showered, dressed, and very sulkily seated at the breakfast table, drinking what seemed to be the only cup of tea in the entire house. They were completely out of coffee. He was going to make sure whoever was supposed to buy them groceries for the rare times they were home long enough to use them got fired. And maybe drawn and quartered.  
  
A Starbucks cup appeared before him, as if by magic. He blearily followed the hand attached to the cup up to a wrist, then an arm, and finally a Yunho, who laughed at him and ruffled his still-damp hair. “I went out early to get it for you. I noticed last night that we were out.”  
  
Yunho was a god among men. He was amazing, a wonder, perfection in human form. He even remembered that Yoochun got an extra shot. Blessed caffeine...  
  
Yunho combed fingers through his hair more deliberately this time. “Happy Birthday, Yoochun-ah.”

  
2:35 PM  
  
If there was one thing Yoochun hated about photoshoots, it was that everyone, their managers, the photographers, the assistants, even the coordi-noonas (especially the coordi-noonas), seemed to forget they weren’t just poseable dolls to dress up and look at. Noon came and went without a single suggestion that anybody might want to eat food. Except the photographer, of course. Someone brought HIM a sandwich.  
  
Finally, after hours and hours of being primped and prodded and ordered to “move left, no just a bit more, that’s too far, go back the other way,” Yoochun finally managed to make his escape while everyone focused on Jaejoong’s solo shots. He was welcome to them. Yoochun had never been so grateful NOT to be the pretty one.  
  
Unfortunately, threats of coordi-death kept him close to set, just two doors down, hiding in a closet masquerading as a break room. What he wouldn’t give for a cigarette right now. Or a stiff drink. Hell, even the photographer’s stupid sandwich.  
  
His stomach growled, sensing the imminent arrival of food seconds before there was a knock at his closet door. Not that Changmin ever bothered to wait for anyone to answer when he knocked. The appearance of courtesy was all he could generally be bothered with. Fortunately for him, Yoochun was too distracted by the bag he was carrying to nag him about it.  
  
Changmin held the bag out, as if he knew Yoochun was mere moments away from lunging like a starved mountain lion. “Here. I managed to escape long enough to hit up the McDonald’s on the corner. Figured I might as well keep the rest of you alive, too, since I did.”  
  
“Minnie, you’re amazing.”  
  
“Yeah, I know. Yunho-hyung almost drooled on me when I gave him his.”  
  
Yoochun would have laughed, except he’d already stuffed his mouth so full of grease-filled potatoes that he thought he’d choke if he tried. He started to reach for his wallet, started to ask how much he owed Changmin for the food, but Changmin waved it off. Probably for the best, really. No one wanted to see what half-chewed french fry abomination looked like.  
  
“It’s fine. Happy Birthday, hyung.”

  
11:59 PM  
  
The rest of the day went much as expected, and Yoochun had managed to fall into his bed, exhausted, at the wonderfully early eleven o’clock. He wasn’t so much catapulted out of bed, the next time he woke up, as coaxed and prodded and... well... Jaejoong’d into opening his eyes, only to come face-to-face with the one person in what felt like the entire Eastern hemisphere that hadn’t acted like today was any different than any other day.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Hey.” Jaejoong smiled that smile he reserved only for melting Yoochun into a puddle of goo and glanced at the clock over Yoochun’s head before nodding to himself. He leaned in to kiss Yoochun softly, pulling back once Yoochun was even worse than goo. “Happy Birthday, Yoochun-ah.”  
  
“You woke me up for that?” He wanted to be mad, but he’d never quite managed that with Jaejoong even when he was more than half awake.  
  
Jaejoong shrugged, snuggling close until he and Yoochun were both arranged to his liking. “Wanted to be last.”  
  
...Strange, even for Jaejoong. “Huh?”  
  
For a second, he thought Jaejoong had fallen asleep and left him to stew in his curiousity. “I wanted to be last, because everyone always remembers the songs that have the best endings.”  
  
He chuckled, because that was so very Jaejoong. Logic that made absolutely no sense but still wasn’t entirely wrong. He opened his mouth to say thank you or I love you or something equally sappy, but Jaejoong had never been good at letting anyone else have the last word.  
  
“And there was no way in hell I was getting up early enough to beat Junsu.”  
  
Yoochun laughed loudly, burying the sound in a kiss to keep from waking the others, and rolled Jaejoong onto his back. Sleep could wait.


End file.
